


easy

by onakissgodknows



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Colorado Rockies, Dom/sub Undertones, Hair-pulling, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, this is filth but also not really as bad as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 01:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13330638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onakissgodknows/pseuds/onakissgodknows
Summary: “So,” Carlos says.“So what,” Nolan says. “You brought me over here. Figured you knew what you were doing.”Carlos laughs softly. “Always.” Carlos has his own ideas, but it’s up to Nolan. “Look, do you want something to eat? I’ll make dinner.” He takes another sip. “Or we can go upstairs and I can fuck you and call you pretty.”





	easy

**Author's Note:**

> Like a page and a half into writing this I went into a crisis of "oh no this is stupid I'm not going to write this because I don't know what I'm doing" so shoutout to Steph for letting me dump all of those feelings at her until I could actually move forward with this, Steph is bomb.
> 
> Anyway, this is filth, but it's not as bad as it could be, at least imo, but please let me know if there's something I should have tagged.

A disappointing August ends with a frustrating series loss to Detroit, putting them just under .500 on the month. It’s the kind of game nobody will remember in a couple of months, that will fade away into the blur of the late summer, but today it isn’t fun.

They’re slumping again, not as bad as earlier in the season, but they keep losing, they keep losing to bad teams, and the wins they manage to pull off feel like they’ve barely snatched them from the jaws of defeat. It’s not terrible, it could be worse, but it feels like they’re on autopilot, cruising steadily along, when they really ought to have the pedal to the floor, full speed ahead into the final month of the season. This isn’t ideal, but if they can get hot again and go on a streak, Carlos thinks they’ll be okay.

Nolan went 0-for-4 with three strikeouts today, which he shouldn’t let get to him, because they were up against fucking Verlander, but Carlos knows Nolan well enough to know he’s burning up about it inside.

Carlos finds him in the locker room after he showers. Nolan’s sitting in front of his locker, throwing things into his bag, and Carlos rests a hand on the back of his neck as he approaches him from behind. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Nolan says irritably, barely taking notice of Carlos’s hand. When Carlos doesn’t move, Nolan glances over his shoulder at him. “God, I’ll get over it, okay?”

“And until then?” Carlos moves his hand up to nestle in the short hair at the back of Nolan’s head, massaging his scalp. Nolan, almost unconsciously, leans into his touch, closing his eyes like a cat having its ears scratched.

Carlos drags his fingernails gently down Nolan’s scalp then takes his hand away, keenly aware that they aren’t the only ones in the locker room. “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing. Going home, I guess.”

“Come home with me,” Carlos says quietly.

Nolan scowls. “Are you asking me, or telling me?”

Carlos smiles. “Asking. Hoping you’ll say yes.” Nolan is normally pretty level-headed when things go poorly, but up-and-down stretches like this can start getting to him. Mediocrity bothers Nolan, and God knows they aren’t a mediocre team this year.

Carlos knows it’s frustration that gets to Nolan on days like this. Frustration that he couldn’t help the team, desperation to start climbing out of this pit of mediocrity, wins and losses piling up in equal amounts, and it isn’t enough this year, not when they’re in the wild card race.

Frustration makes Nolan stubborn, and that means Nolan is going to resist help when it’s offered. Carlos is prepared for him to say no, but Nolan mutters “Yeah, okay,” and slings his bag over his shoulder.

Carlos drives. Nolan sits in the passenger’s seat, glaring out the window. Denver traffic can be brutal, and it’s rush hour on a weekday.

“It’s one game, Nolan,” Carlos says once he navigates them through the worst of the traffic.

“It’s a lot of games,” Nolan shoots back.

“Right. A hundred and sixty-two of them, actually.” He spins the steering wheel, pulling onto his street. “You can’t beat yourself up over one.”

Nolan fixes his glare on Carlos. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

Carlos parks in his driveway. “Then come inside and tell me what you mean.”

They go inside. The scowl on Nolan’s face is permanent, apparently, lips scrunched up in irritation along with his furrowed brow. Carlos goes to touch his cheek but Nolan jerks away.

Carlos clicks his tongue. “You don’t have to take it out on me.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Nolan insists. He drops his bag next to the front door and stands there in this stupid t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, arms folded across his chest and face the picture of petulance.

Carlos sighs and goes into the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

Nolan makes a noise in assent and follows him. Carlos pulls two bottles from the fridge and opens them, then presses one into Nolan’s hand. He rests his elbows on the counter and clinks his bottle against Nolan’s. “Cheers,” he says, and takes a drink.

Nolan takes a couple of deep pulls, still looking broody. Carlos had thought maybe he’d relax a little once he got him home, but his shoulders are still tense, and he’s hunched over the bottle like a day-drinker at the end of the bar.

“So,” Carlos says.

“So what,” Nolan says. “You brought me over here. Figured you knew what you were doing.”

Carlos laughs softly. “Always.” Carlos has his own ideas, but it’s up to Nolan. “Look, do you want something to eat? I’ll make dinner.” He takes another sip. “Or we can go upstairs and I can fuck you and call you pretty.”

Nolan’s dark eyes flick over to him when he says that, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. They’ve done this before, but it’s been awhile. Carlos has spent a lot of the season distracted in his own struggles, while Nolan has been a star. He’s always been a star, but he’s also awfully hard on himself. He’s gotten better, so much better in the last couple of years, but sometimes he slips. Carlos doesn’t know when he made it his job to fix Nolan, but he likes it, likes taking care of him, and Nolan likes it too, he’s pretty sure.

But it has been awhile, so maybe not.

“Your decision,” Carlos continues. “Tell me what you need.”

Nolan’s quiet for a few minutes, drinking his beer. “Well, I’m not really hungry,” he finally says, and Carlos laughs. Smiling, he reaches across the counter and runs his fingers through Nolan’s hair.

“Is that a yes to option two?” Carlos prompts, still grinning as Nolan leans into his hand again.

“Yes, fine,” Nolan mutters, closing his eyes.

Carlos gives Nolan’s hair a tug and slides his fingers free. Nolan picks up his bottle and chugs the rest of his beer. Carlos raises his eyebrows. “Easy,” he says.

Nolan sets the bottle down with a decisive clink. “I know what I can handle.”

“Do you?” Carlos steps around the counter and grabs Nolan around the waist, tugging him close. Nolan trips a little on the tile floor and stumbles against him, but Carlos gets both his arms around his waist and holds him steady.

Nolan’s taller than him, but barely. Carlos brushes his nose against Nolan’s, lips so close he can feel Nolan’s breath. “I like this,” he says, letting his eyelids droop half-shut.

Nolan doesn’t say anything, just goes in for a kiss, but Carlos pulls back just before their lips touch. He grins at Nolan, whose eyes flutter open when his mouth doesn’t find Carlos’s. A dull flush reddens his cheeks. Nolan huffs. “You’re a dick. You mean you just like teasing me.”

“Yes. It’s fun.” Carlos laughs and lets go of him. He brushes his fingers down Nolan’s face. “Come upstairs,” he says, leaving his fingers to linger on Nolan’s lips for a moment. He turns, and Nolan follows.

Nolan undresses when they get to the bedroom, strips to his underwear, because he wants this more than he’ll say out loud. He kicks his shirt and pants into a pile on the floor and looks at Carlos, waiting.

“You can sit down,” Carlos says with a smile, taking his shirt off. He throws it on the floor with Nolan’s but leaves his jeans where they are, for now.

Nolan perches on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets in his hands. He’s still tense, but that’s okay. Carlos can work it out of him. He approaches Nolan and cups his chin in his hand, tilting his face up. “So.”

“What?” Nolan says again, a little impatience in his voice like he wants Carlos to get on with it. But he can wait.

Carlos raises his eyebrows at him. “So a Cy Young contender gets the better of you one day and suddenly you’re terrible?”

Nolan scowls. “I told you, it’s not just today. It’s this whole month, CarGo.”

“Hmm. I must remember your August a little differently than you do. What happened last week?”

“We were getting no-hit into the sixth inning,” Nolan says stubbornly.

“And?”

“And then I hit a home run, but we still got no-hit into the sixth, by Kansas-fucking-City. And we lost.”

Sure, they’d lost, but that isn’t Carlos’s point. His point is that regardless of what the team is doing, Nolan never slacks off or gives up. “Not your fault.”

“It isn’t _not_ my fault. You know – “

“You know, you need to get out of your head.” Carlos raps his knuckles on the side of Nolan’s head, and Nolan shoves his arm away – roughhousing like they do in the clubhouse. “You’re thinking too much.” He knows Nolan. He knows he expects himself to carry the team if they’re slumping, and during the bad stretches it’s hard not to replay everything in his mind, picking over his own mistakes.

It’s no wonder his shoulders are tense.

Nolan shrugs. “I gotta be better. I can’t give it up that easy, like I did today.”

“Easy.” Carlos smiles and puts his hands on Nolan’s face, smooths one through his hair and runs the other down his chest. “Think you’re too easy?” Nolan kind of rolls his eyes, but also closes them, clearly adoring the feel of Carlos’s hands on him.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Nolan says, eyes still shut. “You’re the worst.”

Carlos laughs, rubbing the back of Nolan’s neck. “You wanna say it instead?”

Nolan opens his eyes. “I’m only easy for you.”

“That’s what I thought.” Carlos grins. “Well, in your defense, I do try not to push you too much.”

“I don’t mind if you do.” Nolan’s eyes flick up to his face. “If you push me a little.”

Carlos raises his eyebrows. “Push you how?”

Nolan shrugs one shoulder. “Like, you know.” He puts his fingertips on Carlos’s hips and shoves him back a little. “You don’t have to be so sweet all the time.”

“So, like, physically.” Carlos can be rough if Nolan wants him to, even if Nolan isn’t totally sure what he’s asking for – which it seems like he isn’t.

Nolan looks up at him. “I trust you, you know.”

Nolan has solid instincts. Carlos thinks he knows what he’s after.

“So if I…” He tugs Nolan off the bed and before Nolan can get steady on his feet, he puts his hand on his shoulder, shoving him to his knees. Nolan winces a little as his knees hit the floor. “Like that?”

“Yeah,” Nolan says, already sounding a little breathless. “Like that.” He puts his hand on Carlos’s thighs, moving up to his waistband, and looks up at Carlos inquisitively.

Carlos moves Nolan’s hands and unbuttons his jeans himself. “Put your hands behind your back,” Carlos says, almost just to see if Nolan will, and Nolan complies without a word, sinking back onto his heels with his hands folded behind him. Carlos gets his dick out and jacks it a little – he was already getting hard from looking at Nolan on his knees, so he doesn’t need much.

His hand’s a little dry for this. He looks at Nolan, who’s watching him with wide eyes. “You want to suck me off?”  

Nolan nods.

“Keep your hands where they are.”

Nolan nods again, and straightens up. He leans forward, and Carlos takes a step backward so he’s just out of reach, just to watch Nolan chase after him and almost topple forward. Carlos laughs – not meanly, he hopes Nolan knows that, but he can’t help it. “You do want it, huh?”

Nolan looks up at him, betrayal in his eyes. “Fuck you.” He’s flushed red all over his face, embarrassment or arousal or maybe both. His hands are still behind his back, and the fact that he’s still doing what Carlos told him to even though he’s annoyed goes straight to Carlos’s dick.

“I’m sorry.” Still grinning, he grabs Nolan by the shoulders to steady him and steps closer again. “I wanted to see what you’d do. You’re cute.” And needy and desperate and hot.

“Can you put your dick in my mouth or what?” He’s annoyed, yeah, but Carlos can see he’s hard, starting to strain against his boxers. He’s turned on from this, from Carlos putting him on his knees.

“I owe you now, don’t I?” He moves his hand to the back of Nolan’s neck and nudges his cock against his lips. Nolan opens his mouth and takes him in with a sigh, closing his eyes like this is all he’s been waiting for.

With Nolan’s hands behind his back – you’d think he’d bound him, Carlos can’t believe how conscientious he’s being about it – and Carlos’s hand in his hair, Carlos is kind of steering, but it’s nice. He’s not letting Nolan take him that deep, but Nolan sucks on the tip and looks up at him with his cheeks hollowed and Carlos’s knees go shaky, and he has to take a moment to catch his breath. “Fuck. Oh, _fuck_.”

Nolan manages to raise an eyebrow at him like _who’s desperate now_ , then pulls off to mouth at the underside of his cock, licks him from base to tip. His hair is a mess from Carlos grabbing at it, but Carlos isn’t about to stop, not when Nolan lets out a hiss as Carlos tightens his fingers. “You look so good like this, Nolan. You’re so fucking pretty.” He pushes back into Nolan’s mouth, harder this time, and he feels Nolan exhale sharply and relax his jaw.

He holds Nolan’s hair and fucks his mouth like that, shallowly, and Nolan takes it, eyes open and trained on Carlos’s face. Carlos groans. “You’re perfect. Fuck, you’re good at this.” Nolan’s eyes flutter shut again and for the first time he moves one of his hands, reaching for his own cock, but Carlos nudges his shoulder to make him stop. “No. Not yet.” Nolan moans around him, and Carlos tilts his head back, pressing his lips together so he’s not as loud as he wants to be.

Carlos pushes Nolan off his cock. “Enough,” he says sharply, because he’s so close, but he’s not nearly done with Nolan.

Nolan’s lips are red, his eyelashes clinging together with dampness, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Come on me.” His voice is hoarse, eyes wide.

Carlos laughs. “Not yet.”

Nolan licks his lips. “Kiss me then?” he says, a little hesitantly like he thinks the answer might be no, and it occurs to Carlos that he hasn’t.

Carlos nods. “Yeah, god yeah, get up here.” He hauls Nolan to his feet and kisses him hard, biting at his lips before pushing his tongue into Nolan’s mouth. Nolan moans again and puts his hands on Carlos’s face, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Carlos walks them back until Nolan hits the edge of the bed and falls back onto the mattress. He scoots back and reaches for Carlos again.

Carlos shoves his pants and underwear to his ankles and kicks them off before he joins Nolan on the bed. He nudges Nolan onto his back and presses his lips to his stomach, trails wet kisses up his body, occasionally biting gently to make him squirm. He stops at Nolan’s mouth and smiles before he kisses him again. He presses one of his thighs between Nolan’s legs and Nolan’s hips jerk forward and Nolan moans. Carlos grabs him by the hip and presses him firmly back against the mattress.

“CarGo, please, I need – “ His head falls back against the pillows, mouth open, as his grip tightens on Carlos’s waist and he tries to push his hips against him, desperate for any kind of friction against his cock.

Carlos shifts so his knees are on either side of Nolan’s thighs, then grabs Nolan by the wrists and holds them above his head. His body presses against Nolan’s, pinning him down, and Nolan thrashes around a little but stops. Nolan’s strong enough that if he wanted to Carlos is sure he could throw him off, but he doesn’t, just shudders into stillness and closes his eyes, chest heaving.

Carlos rocks his hips into Nolan’s. Nolan still has his boxers on and Carlos can feel how damp they are at the front. Nolan whimpers, a stuttering, breathless sound. “You all right? You like this?” Carlos asks, squeezing his wrists experimentally.

“Shit, yes,” Nolan says. His voice doesn’t sound like anything Carlos has ever heard from him before. “I need – God, please – “

“Tell me,” Carlos says.

“I need you to fuck me. At least touch me, Jesus, I can’t – please, CarGo.”

“Good boy,” Carlos purrs, and Nolan shudders again.

Carlos lets go of his wrists and Nolan slowly brings his arms down. Carlos hooks his fingers into his waistband and tugs his boxers off. Nolan’s so hard; Carlos thinks he’s been leaking since he shoved him to his knees, so Carlos wraps his hand around him and starts pumping him without preamble and Nolan practically yells, arching his back off the mattress. Carlos laughs softly and uses his forearm to hold Nolan’s hips down before wrapping his lips around the head of his cock.

“Oh my god.” Nolan’s voice is almost inaudible, but Carlos smirks and swirls his tongue around him, still using his hand on what he doesn’t have in his mouth.

“You’re being so patient,” Carlos says when he pulls his mouth off him. He rubs his thumb over the head of his cock and Nolan groans. “So good.” He pushes Nolan’s thighs apart and circles his hole gently with his index finger. Nolan hisses and his hips jerk again, though Carlos’s arm keeps him down.

Carlos kisses the inside of his thigh and sits up. “There’s stuff in the drawer next to you. Get it for me, please.” He goes back to sucking Nolan’s cock while Nolan rummages in the bedside drawer and finally emerges with lube and a condom. Nolan tosses them onto the mattress next to Carlos and digs his fingers into the sheets as Carlos takes him deeper into his mouth.

Carlos slowly moves his mouth off him and grabs the lube. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He pours it onto his fingers and rubs them together gently before settling back between Nolan’s legs. Nolan is watching him with wide eyes, and Carlos smiles at him as he presses his slick fingers against him. “This what you wanted?”

Nolan nods repeatedly, a quiet “ _please”_ slipping out of his mouth, and Carlos pushes one finger into him. Nolan’s eyes flutter shut and he moans softly. Carlos kisses his hip. “Pretty baby,” he says teasingly, and he thinks that would annoy Nolan if he said it at _any_ other time, but as it is Nolan moans and pushes back against him, wordlessly asking for more.

He goes slowly, and he knows it’s agonizing for Nolan, but he wants to take his time. He crawls back up to kiss Nolan on the lips as he tucks a second finger inside him and he swallows the noise Nolan makes into his mouth. Carlos presses his lips to Nolan’s neck and keeps doing that, whispering gentle words against his skin as he opens him up.

The juxtaposition of Carlos’s gentleness with how badly Nolan wants _more_ is – well, it’s hot. Nolan’s shaking and squirming underneath him and Carlos just holds steady. He has to pin Nolan’s wrists down again with his free hand, which he does with a grin before kissing him chastely on the lips. He has three fingers inside him now and Nolan’s legs fall open, one hooking around his waist.

“Carlos,” Nolan whimpers finally. “Please. Please.” His voice cracks at the end – Carlos looks at him and his eyes are wet.

He licks a stripe up Nolan’s neck and ends with a sharp nip to his earlobe, making Nolan cry out. “You know how good you are, right?” he whispers. He rubs a palm against his own cock to take the edge off, willing himself to wait just a little longer. “Fucking Gold Gloves every year of your career. Future MVP. You’ll win a World Series one day, you know that?” Slowly he pulls his fingers out and Nolan whines, lifting his hips in askance.

Carlos rolls the condom on and slicks himself up. “You know I’m not the only one who thinks so, too, right?” Nolan’s eyes are on him, bright with anticipation. “The whole team does. Nobody on that team is as good as you, nobody.” Nolan bites his lip as Carlos shifts to line their bodies up. He slowly pushes his cock into him until he’s fully seated and fuck, _fuck_ , he’s been so concerned with making this good for Nolan he’s barely noticed how badly he needs this. “Fuck, baby.” He pulls out almost all the way and then snaps his hips forward, fast and hard, and both of them moan. “ _Fucking_ perfect, you know that? That’s what I think about you.”

He grabs Nolan’s legs and hooks them around his hips, then grasps Nolan again by the wrists, because it seems like he’s digging that, and kind of – lets go.

It isn’t slow or gentle, but that’s okay, that’s what Nolan wants; at least it’s what he said in his roundabout way. Nolan’s pinned under Carlos by his hands and his body, but Nolan’s legs around his waist make it equally impossible for Carlos to get away even if he wanted to and Nolan is asking him for _more more more_. Carlos wraps a hand around Nolan’s dick and the noises he makes are gorgeous. “ _Yes_ ,” Carlos says, and kisses Nolan on the mouth, moving his hand faster to match his thrusts.

Nolan’s breath is erratic; he’s desperately moving his hips to try to keep up with Carlos like this still isn’t enough, and Carlos wants to tell him it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s enough, he’s enough, so he does, in between pressing kisses to his throat and chest.

Carlos bites at Nolan’s collarbone, not hard, just enough to sting, and that’s when Nolan comes all over himself, with a noise that’s practically a sob. Carlos fucks him through it, doesn’t stop until Nolan’s legs tighten around his waist, keeping him still. Nolan is breathing heavily, eyes wide, and he throws an arm over his face, wiping his eyes.

Carlos tries to pull back, but Nolan whimpers and tightens his legs again. “Stay like that,” Nolan whispers.

Carlos settles back on top of him and kisses him, deep and wet. “Would if I could.” He isn’t pinning Nolan down anymore; he lets Nolan snake his arms around his neck and kiss him back. He manages to snap his hips forward just a little bit, enough to make Nolan whine, and he lets his legs fall so Carlos can pull out of him.

Nolan inhales sharply as he does, then props himself up on his elbows. “Let me.”

Carlos discards the condom and moves so he’s kneeling next to Nolan, and Nolan gets his hands around him, pumping him with strong, steady motions and Carlos moans, reaching down to twine his fingers in Nolan’s hair. “Not gonna last long,” he tells him breathlessly, and Nolan just quickens his pace. He squeezes, and that’s it; Nolan’s eyes flick up to watch him as he lets Carlos come all over his hands and face.

Carlos takes a moment to catch his breath, then leans down to kiss Nolan, who is a mess but who cares. He strokes Nolan’s cheek, swipes his fingers through the come that’s landed on his lips, then pushes his fingers into Nolan’s mouth. Nolan closes his lips around them and his eyes drift shut as he sucks on Carlos’s fingers. Carlos smiles and pushes them a little deeper; Nolan moans like he’s gearing up for round two, like licking come off Carlos’s hand is going to get him off all over again.

Carlos drags his damp fingers down Nolan’s chest. “Okay if I leave you for a minute?”

Nolan nods, settling back against the mattress. “Only if you come right back.” Carlos kisses his forehead and says “of course” before getting up.

He gets two bottles of water and a soft towel and comes back as quickly as he can. Nolan has his hands over his face, and Carlos tugs them away as he sits down next to him. “You all right?” he asks gently as he wipes Nolan’s face and stomach clean.

“Yeah,” Nolan says quickly. His voice is a little rough, almost like he’s just woken up. “Yeah, I’m good. Are you?”

Carlos smiles. He lays down on the bed next to Nolan and wraps his arms around him. Nolan gratefully curls closer, resting his head on Carlos’s shoulder. He’s so soft and pliant in Carlos’s arms now, tension gone. Carlos could get used to this, having Nolan spread out all loose and comfortable in his bed. “I’m great.” He gently rubs Nolan’s shoulder. “Was this what you wanted?”

Nolan turns a little red. “Yeah. Yeah, it was – thanks. Thank you.” He buries his face against him like he’s embarrassed, and Carlos laughs.

“Don’t mention it. You were perfect. Are perfect.” He trails his fingers down Nolan’s spine and Nolan shivers. “What do you need now?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Dinner, maybe?” Nolan shrugs. “If the offer stands.”

“Of course.” Carlos moves to stand but Nolan grabs him and holds him where he is. “You’re indecisive.”

“This first,” Nolan mutters, and snuggles into Carlos’s side. “Dinner after.”

“You want me to hold you, then make you dinner?”

“Yes,” Nolan says decisively.

“God, you’re fucking high-maintenance.”

“Lucky for me I got you, then. Sucker.” He blinks up at him. “You offered, anyway.”

Carlos kisses him on the top of his head. “I did. You’re no trouble.” He rubs Nolan’s shoulder absentmindedly. “I thought I might go to the field early tomorrow.”

“Mmm?” Nolan’s only half-listening, his eyes shut.

“Yeah, want to come with? Going to do some extra BP. Could use your eyes.”

“Mm. Yeah, sure. Gotta go home first, though, get my stuff.”

“I’ll drive you. It’s no problem.”

“Why the extra BP?” Nolan asks sleepily.

“Got an idea how to fix my swing. Get my power back.” If there’s one thing this godforsaken series against Detroit gave him, at least it was this. Well, this and Nolan whimpering underneath him getting fucked senseless, and it’s not even close which is better.

“That’s awesome.” Nolan says it kind of politely, like he doesn’t quite believe it. Carlos can’t blame him. Carlos has been talking getting his power back all season.

It’s okay if Nolan doesn’t believe him. It’s even okay if Carlos doesn’t get his power back like he wants, because the team is good enough. Good enough to get there if Carlos doesn’t hit a home run for the rest of the season. Good enough because they have Nolan.

He kisses Nolan’s face again and Nolan shifts and mumbles something – he’s basically asleep, and Carlos practically laughs at how he’s worn himself out that quickly.

September. September will be their month, and the postseason after.

**Author's Note:**

> Further thoughts: I wanted to set this after that series versus Detroit because I remembered it being particularly annoying as a fan, but even that series wasn't all that awful to Nolan. Turns out it's difficult to find a game where Nolan actually had a bad day at the plate. Lucky for me Verlander did get to him in the final game of the series. 
> 
> Also fun fact, Cargo did cite that series as a turning point in his season, and he started hitting for power again in September, basically lit himself on fire, and was a huge part of how the Rockies held onto their wild card spot. He's a Rockie forever and always, I don't care what uniform he wears this year. 
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr [here](https://on-a-kiss-god-knows.tumblr.com/).


End file.
